


bad in the blood

by liketheroad



Series: runs in the family [2]
Category: The Borgias
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-18 04:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketheroad/pseuds/liketheroad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>When Cesare returns home after nights with Lucrezia, he will slip into bed beside Juan, smelling of her, and they will lie on their backs with their eyes open, talking like brothers do, teasing each other until the lingering softness of Lucrezia is gone from Cesare and his hands and words turn cold and cruel.</i></p><p><b>warnings:</b> consensual (typically sexual) violence; hand-waving of historical accuracy; Juan</p>
            </blockquote>





	bad in the blood

After Juan kills their dear Moor, Cesare follows him out into the night. Juan makes it all of twenty feet before he stumbles, and Cesare must race to catch his fall. After that, he all but carries Juan back to his chambers, his body limp and footsteps clumsy.

Cesare deposits his brother on his bed and moves to leave the room when Juan’s voice stops him.

“Would you hear my confession, brother?”

Cesare stills, closing his eyes before turning back around to face Juan.

“What would you confess?”

“That for my crime tonight, it is not God’s forgiveness that I seek.”

“Whose forgiveness, then, brother?”

“Our sister’s. Yours.”

Cesare closes his eyes again. “I cannot give you Lucrezia’s forgiveness, that is hers to withhold if she wishes.”

“And yours?”

Cesare checks the door, ensuring that it is shut and locked safely, and then he stands before Juan forebodingly.

“Give me your belt,” he instructs, almost too soft for Juan to hear.

But he is listening closely, always listening to Cesare, and so Juan does as his brother has asked.

“Lie on your stomach,” Cesare whispers, his hands moving to position Juan where he wants him.

Juan lies completely still, his breath so shallow it causes no rise in his shoulders.

“Are you sorry for what you have done?” Cesare asks, curling the leather of Juan’s belt in his hands.

“Yes,” Juan says, and Cesare strikes him once, hard enough to raise a welt on Juan’s pale back.

“Why are you sorry? For the life you have taken?”

“No,” Juan answers, and Cesare lashes out again, harder still. “But for the pain it will cause those I love, I am sorry for that.”

“If you are truly repentant, dear brother, then perhaps you may yet earn your forgiveness.”

“Please,” Juan begs, and Cesare hits him a third time, and then a fourth, each blow accompanied by a cry drawn from his brother like a benediction.

And so Cesare whips him again, and again, until his arm is numb and Juan’s cries have turned silent, until Cesare is satisfied and Juan has bled his way to absolution.

\---

She loses track of all the different gowns she is fitted for, learns to simply stand with her arms out and face impassive, body straight and still as she is wrapped in the finest fabrics and pinned in place, hemmed in until there is no chance of escape.

\---

Three nights before her wedding, Lucrezia comes to Cesare outside his room, but will not say anything to him until he has walked her back to her own chambers and followed her inside.

“Now that it comes to it, I am not sure I want to marry, Cesare,” she says, voice uncertain, as though she’s not sure this is a grievance he wishes her to air.

But he just smiles, soft and fond and asks, “Shall we run away together instead?”

Lucreiza laughs, knowing her face must be shining from it, from him. “Can we?”

“Of course. We can go to the New World.”

“And what will we do in the New World, Cesare?”

“I am not sure, sister. Raise goats, perhaps?”

“Goats!” She shrieks indignantly just before he attacks, soft hands and a sharp grin, digging his fingers into her sides and making her shriek all the more with laughter.

“Goats, sis,” he says triumphantly, once he has caught her against the side of her wardrobe, both of them breathless with laughter.

She leans up to press her forehead against his, and says solemnly, “I would gladly raise goats if I could raise them with you, Cesare.”

He stares back at her, eyes wide and equally solemn as hers, and for a moment she thinks he will kiss her, will finally kiss her, but then he starts to grin, and in another moment they are both dissolving back into laughter, all seriousness forgotten.

\---

There is a small group of guards admiring Lucrezia’s portrait as Cesare and Juan pass, and when Cesare catches wind of what they are saying about her Juan has to drag him away by the arm before Cesare can silence them permanently.

“My god, Cesare,” he laughs, winded from the effort of taking Cesare somewhere he did not want to go, “You can’t even abide other men looking at her _portrait_ without drawing your sword, how on earth are you going to share her with a husband?”

Cesare keeps walking, and does not look at his younger brother when he responds, “I will still have you to keep my bed warm on those nights when I must be deprived of her, will I not?”

“You will,” Juan relies neutrally.

Cesare clamps him on the shoulder, his smile sharp and unkind as he says, “Then I’m sure I shall find the strength to carry on.”

\----

On the day before her wedding, Lucrezia wanders the corridors of her family home alone, the passages so familiar she moves with her eyes closed and never misses a step.

She walks and walks, searching for something she cannot name, or perhaps simply searching for Cesare, but in either case, she does not find what she is looking for.

She does find Juan, however, and she watches him for almost an hour from behind the doorway, head peering out occasionally to catalog his movements. He seems oblivious, but eventually she notices he has not turned a page of the book he appears to be reading in as long as she has been watching him.

So she enters the room, and he puts his book down solemnly. They have not spoken since Djem, but it is not for the reason he probably thinks. It is not Djem’s death that she hates him for, but the dowry his death purchased.

But even this she can forgive, because there is little any of them do by choosing, not anymore, and she must forgive Juan his part in the destiny their father has carved out for them just as she must forgive Cesare, forgive herself.

Besides, Juan excels at accepting hate along with love.

She approaches him, smiling so he knows he has nothing to fear, and after a moment, her brother smiles back at her.

That done, Lucrezia sighs pointedly, and then collapses dramatically onto the chair nearest where Juan is sitting.

He laughs, eyes alight with amused expectation.

“Yes, sis?”

She sighs again and rests her chin on his shoulder.

“Why will Cesare not be with me, brother? Surely if I am old enough to marry, I am old enough to share his bed.”

Juan tuts, shaking his head. “Until you are married there are certain... activities that must be avoided, lest your husband discover on your wedding night that you have not remained chaste.”

“And is there such a way to tell even if I have kissed someone, Juan?”

Juan smiles sadly. “No, there is not, sister.”

“Then he has no excuse.”

Juan shakes his head. ”Perhaps he simply has a different one. You are very precious to him, after all.”

“Perhaps too precious,” she mutters, surprising him with the bitterness in her voice. Juan had thought it was only he whom their brother drove to such frustration.

“Perhaps,” he agrees, nudging her consolingly with his shoulder.

She closes her eyes, head bowed as if in prayer, and when she opens them again, there is something wicked in her eyes that delights him, makes him think that he knows, at least a little, why she is the light around which Cesare’s entire world revolves.

“Will you kiss me, brother?”

“If you like,” Juan replies with a teasing smile.

She nods and holds out her face expectantly.

Smiling all the more, Juan leans in, catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding her face still and kissing her softly, so softly, on her pursed mouth.

“You were far gentler than I expected,” she says once he has released her.

“It was your first kiss, sister. I thought it best to proceed with care.”

“How does Cesare kiss?”

Juan laughs.

“Like he is drowning and he means not to die alone.”

“Show me,” she commands with all the authority befitting a future queen.

And so Juan does.

\---

Her wedding is beautiful, and she is the most beautiful part of it, shining bright in white and gold.

He marries her, gives her away for family and for Rome, but when she takes her marriage vow, Cesare is certain she is speaking only to him.

\---

“This may be trespassing. In fact, I’m almost entirely certain we’re trespassing.”

“Nonsense, we’re her family. We’re merely demonstrating healthy brotherly concern.”

“By creeping around in the bushes of our sister’s new home?” Juan tisks. “People talk enough already, don’t you think?”

“And what do they talk about, dear brother,” Cesare mutters distractedly over his shoulder. The majority of his attention is focused above them, to the lit window Juan knows must belong to Lucrezia.

“You know full well, brother, what they say about you, just as I know quite well what is said about me. Take comfort knowing that it is still better to be a pervert than a suspected bastard.”

Cesare pauses then, for one moment his thoughts turning from their sister, and before that moment is gone he brushes his thumb against Juan’s collar bone, softer than Juan can remember Cesare touching him in years.

“Regardless of what might be whispered behind our backs, I will not leave our sister unprotected,” he announces finally, voice hard, eyes cast upward again.

Juan feels suddenly alone. But then, he is always alone when he is with Cesare.

“I do not suggest you leave her unprotected - I’m simply advocating for discretion.”

Cesare laughs. “Discretion? You?”

“In this matter, at least.”

“Alright, brother, and how will we manage to be more discrete than this?”

“This skulking around in the bushes, you mean? Oh, I think we can do considerably better, brother mine. Perhaps we may even venture into the light of day. I know how you love Lucrezia in the sunshine.”

“I love her always.”

Juan almost rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes, with a love as pure and all-consuming as the love of God, I’ve heard. There is a better way, that is all I mean to say.”

“And that way?”

“We will _visit_ her. As concerned and doting brothers might. But it cannot always be you alone, brother. There is suspicion enough already, and it will not do to fuel that unnecessarily.”

“And if I do not go, who will?”

Juan sighs, and says grimly, “I will.”

\---

On their first official visit, Cesare and Juan go together. They are greeted by servants and lead into a lavish dining hall, and they submit to a lengthy dinner spent discussing the weather and politics with Lucrezia’s husband before they have a chance to do anything but meet their sister’s eyes across the table.

After dinner, her husband retires to his chambers, and Lucrezia takes her brothers on a walk around the grounds of her new home. They walk in a line of three, Lucrezia in the middle, her arms linked with both of them.

\---

The next time, Juan goes alone, and he and Lucrezia play croquet and laugh about trivial things to avoid talking about the intensity with which she misses Cesare, how it seems to diminish her, somehow, to be away from him. At the same time, however, there is something ferociously independent about her now that she has finally been left to stand alone outside of the confines and comforts of their family and their home. She commands her new servants with ease, charms her husband almost without effort, although Juan can see the strain behind her eyes when the man touches her.

He worries for her, and worries more still over what Cesare may do if he visits Lucrezia and finds her similarly distressed, disgusted by a foreign touch where only Cesare’s presence has ever been desired. He worries but keeps these worries silent, laughs with her instead and tells her nothing of his fears.

For her part Lucrezia says nothing about how gingerly Juan carries himself, ignoring the bruises visible on his wrists and neck and dark circles underneath his eyes.

Together they pretend away a host of worries and a host of sins, until Lucrezia can smile at Juan and think of something other than Cesare, until Juan can smile at her without thinking only of the way Cesare is beating his frustration and grief caused by her absence out onto Juan’s body every night they are apart.

\---

The first time Cesare follows through on the promise of a kiss his eyes have long whispered to her, Lucrezia believes she will be consumed by him, engulfed, until they are finally one, instead of two, as she believes they were always meant to be.

It is during one of his rare visits to her alone, Cesare arriving just after the sunrise to sweep her away on horseback. They ride for an hour or more before Cesare reveals their destination, a small grove and a lavish tent ready and waiting for them.

She smiles at him, feeling somehow nervous despite everything she has already done in the name of her wifely duties and despite a lifetime of trusting none but Cesare. But when he smiles back at her, gentle and slightly mocking, all nervousness is forgotten and she laughs at him, at herself, head tossed back, hair almost glittering in the sunshine.

He lifts her off her horse, and that is when it happens. As natural as breathing, and as necessary, their mouths come together and she feels herself change irrevocably. She has always been his, but it means something more, now, something bright and real where before there was only hope and wanting.

He kisses her neck, her finger tips, hands feather light against her naked skin. He holds her close, foreheads pressed together, whispering words of love and devotion, and once he is inside her she thinks she would rather die than feel anything else ever again.

\---

A fortnight after Lucrezia’s wedding, Cesare gives Juan his second lesson in killing.

Someone always seems to need killing, these days, and Cesare takes Juan instead of Micheletto because Juan’s education has always been his responsibility, and the stakes are far too high for him to begin to shirk that duty now.

They plan the ambush together, arguing and sparing for hours until Cesare is satisfied that the plan is sound and Juan is ready to execute it.

During the act itself, Cesare holds guard once again, watching for intruders while the rest of his attention is fixed on the sounds of his brother taking his second life. It’s quieter, this time, quicker, and when Juan comes out, Cesare congratulates him.

“You’re improving,” he says, slapping Juan on the back.

Juan jerks away from Cesare’s hold, glaring furiously.

Cesare smiles, half-predatory, half-proud, and Juan smiles back, just a second before he punches Cesare in the face.

Cesare stays still, hand over his bleeding nose, and watches Juan stalk away, feeling prouder still.

\---

Lucrezia’s new home is not so different from her old one. She is still surrounded by servants who silently obey her every thought and desire, she is still left to wander corridors and dance and read for hours at a time. Of her husband, she sees very little, although she performs her marriage duties ably.

She is alone in a way that she was not before, when she had her mother and brothers to talk and play with, but she has her visits from Cesare and from Juan to sustain her.

She treasures her time with Cesare most of all, of course, but finds similar comfort in Juan’s presence. He is less kind than Cesare is, less gentle with her, but she value these qualities. She is not a child any longer, and has no safety left except the violence of her brothers and the skill of her own cunning, her protection now premised entirely on her ability to seduce, not just a husband, but her brothers as well.

\---

Cesare’s kisses are somehow brutal in their softness, his care forcing her to be the one to scratch and claw, desperate for every part of him she can have, even as she is driven half mad from the realization that no matter how closely they become entwined it will never, ever be enough.

\---

It is usually Juan who visits during the day, sometimes bringing Cesare with him, sometimes not. Cesare typically prefers to visit Lucrezia in the dead of night, where they might meet in dark corners to find satisfaction in one another.

When Cesare returns home after these times, he will slip into bed beside Juan, smelling of her, and they will lie on their backs with their eyes open, talking like brothers do, laughing and teasing each other until the lingering softness of Lucrezia is gone from Cesare and his hands and words turn cold and cruel. Then he is Juan’s Cesare again, familiar and loved, and Juan will kiss Cesare until he can no longer taste their sister in his mouth.

\---

“May I love him, Cesare?”

“Your husband?”

“Our brother.”

“As a brother?”

“Perhaps as more than that.”

Cesare sighs, staring away from her for a long while, and then he smiles, taking her hand between his.

“I know this life of ours affords you little freedom to follow where your heart would take you, my love, but as far as I am concerned - as _we_ are concerned, you may do as you wish.”

She nods, accepting this, and then says, “He reminds me of you, you know.”

“Is that so strange? We are brothers, after all.”

“That is not why I find you similar.”

“Why then?”

She smiles.

“You are both killers. Not just because you have to be, but because it is part of who you are - who you both are.”

“And you find this quality appealing?”

Her smile widens. “Because you love me, yes. Because you will use what you both are to keep me safe. Because I know that if anything should ever happen to me, you and Juan would see the culprit punished.”

At that, Cesare smiles too, sinister and sure. “That we would, dear sis. That we would.”

\---

“You envy me, but you should not.”

“In light of present circumstances, you mean?”

“In light of any circumstances,” she says sharply, and then sighs. “Being loved by Cesare comes at great cost, that I’m sure you already know. But _how_ he loves me... it makes him hide from me. He thinks I deserve something better than what he is, and so he hides his darkness from me, hides himself. At least you are not denied the courtesy of _knowing_ him. Or the dangers he faces.”

Juan touches her face consolingly. “Cesare lives almost entirely in darkness now, sister. Is it too much to ask that he be allowed to keep even one part of himself in the light? To keep you there, safe where he may know you are waiting for him?”

“It is - or it will be - if I do not even know enough to keep myself alive to _be_ waiting for him.”

Juan sighs. They both know he can convince Cesare of almost nothing. “What would you have me do?”

She smiles, and he thinks he should tell her not to show quite so clearly the satisfaction she feels when about to get something she wants, but the smile is so wickedly pretty on her he cannot bear to discourage it.

“You must tell me, Juan, what Cesare will not. News of our Papa and of the College, but most of all news of our dear Cesare.”

“And beyond that?”

She lays her hand on his arm, and looks up at him from behind her lashes. “You must show me what it is to be loved by Cesare as he truly is, not as he wishes to be for me.”

Juan covers her hand with his one, closing thumb and forefinger around her wrist, squeezing down hard enough to make her gasp. “As you wish, sister.”

\---

“You’ve been speaking to Lucrezia.”

“I have.”

Cesare’s grip tightens around Juan’s neck, where he is splayed out naked beneath Cesare.

“Why?”

“Because she asked it of me. Surely you are familiar with how difficult she is to say no to, brother.”

“You are meant to be _protecting_ her,” Cesare hisses, thumb against Juan’s trachea, making him struggle and gasp.

Cesare considers letting go, but Juan’s eyes are bright and fixed on his, so he holds down the pressure for a moment longer before releasing his brother.

“There is more than one way to protect her, Cesare,” Juan says gravely, voice low and likely painful to use.

Cesare smiles despite himself. Every mark he leaves on Juan, every hurt he exacts on his body is a pact between them, a gift only they can give each other.

“Perhaps,” he allows with a sigh, and welcomes Juan to rest his head against Cesare’s thigh.

He runs his fingers through Juan’s hair, short and black where he might wish it long and blond, but beloved all the same. Still, he tugs every so often, hard enough to hurt, and that is what Cesare loves most of all.


End file.
